


These nights are still ours.

by Xerox



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-02
Updated: 2013-01-02
Packaged: 2017-11-23 08:50:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/620287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xerox/pseuds/Xerox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for this prompt on the arrow-kinkmeme: <br/>How did they first get together? Boarding school, sharing a room, was it romantic or just friends with benefits? How did Tommy deal with Oliver being gone? How did Oliver deal while on the island? How do they get back together? Is Tommy afraid to bring it up at first? Does Oliver try to hide his scars? Basically, first times, angst, fluff and h/c in one fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	These nights are still ours.

They hadn’t known each other their whole lives, but it was close enough. Both of their families had always been in Starling City and while they’d run in the same circles, they hadn’t been that close of circles.

Elementary school was nearly behind them when they’d first met. Like really met, more than just seeing each other at random dinner parties. It hadn’t been anything as dramatic or bond firming as one of them sticking up for each other, fighting the world just the two of them. It was just a couple of shared interests and a mutual belief of their own bad assedness.

They graduated from elementary school and spent the summer before middle with adventures and havoc. They were equals really, almost taking turns with who came up with the next bad idea. It was something that never really changed until it did.

Middle school was the best prep school money could offer and learning about girls and skipping classes and how to still make the grades. Tommy’s father was harder on him, meaner in a way that Oliver would never understand. So Tommy started turning into the voice of reason, which wasn’t always saying much, but it kept them from being expelled a time or two.

Then there was high school, four years where they were both urged to study and both put forth the bare minimum to appease their parents. Or Tommy did and Oliver followed. It was parties and booze and rides home in police cars. There were weeks where Tommy wasn’t allowed to do anything but study and sports and school related activities, which were weeks where Oliver helped Tommy sneak out at night and made sure to get him home before his father realized Tommy’s bed hadn’t been slept in.

Some of those nights were spent out and about, no one willing to tell them no and not willing to tell themselves no. And some were spent at Oliver’s drinking and smoking, knowing Oliver’s parents wouldn’t invade his space enough to find out. Not caring if they did.

It was one of those nights, sprawled on Oliver’s bed off their minds with whatever pills they’d popped. The ceiling was moving and it was like they were at sea, and it was too much for Tommy. He didn’t like the sea or the waves or the god damned boats his father liked to drag him on. Didn’t even like them when it was with Oliver. 

He found himself turning over, not aware that Oliver was that close, just wanting to clutch a pillow and stop the world rocking back and forth. Oliver was right there though and instead of a pillow Tommy was clutching Oliver, holding him close and mumbling about waves.

Oliver just laughed, because he was dick, but when he moved it was just right and it must have been Tommy’s night for coming up with not the greatest ideas because he was kissing Oliver. 

Oliver hadn’t kissed back.

Tommy had apologized, made excuses like he’d thought Oliver was Mary with the nice tits. And Oliver accused him of thinking he was a pillow, and all was almost right. Except that now Tommy was paranoid and confused, and terrified he’d ruined their friendship because of pills.

The next few months of their junior year were rocky, not because they changed anything but because it was always in the back of their minds.

It wasn’t fixed until junior prom, cliché that they obviously were, with too much booze and too much party. They found themselves back in Oliver’s room because there was no way Tommy could go home in his condition.

Oliver kissed him this time, pulled away immediately like he was panicking and hadn’t meant to do that. Tommy pulled him back, and that was that. Everything was right again. For the most part.

They weren’t serious, they still dated girls. Still slept around, talked about Mary and how she wouldn’t even look at them.

Then there was college, Tommy stuck in while Oliver bailed. Harvard wasn’t all that close to Starling City and they drifted while Oliver and Laurel got closer. Tommy knew it wasn’t a good idea, Oliver was a dick and he’d hurt Laurel, and they all knew each other too long for it to end well. He didn’t say anything, was quiet and smiled and when he came home to visit or Oliver came up to party they’d find themselves in bed together.

Oliver died after that, took Laurel’s sister with him.

Tommy had been back in Starling city, doing nothing but enjoying his youth and the extra time with Oliver. He’d known Oliver was going to take Sarah on the yacht with him, had even made jokes about the damn yacht.

He hadn’t lied when he’d told Oliver his funeral had blown. It was nice and all, but there was no Oliver only Moira and Thea. Moira held her composure better than anyone could expect. Husband and son in one swell swoop and she was standing. He stood next to them, kept a hand on little Thea’s shoulder because Moira was barely holding herself up.

Laurel wasn’t there.

He didn’t get laid at the funeral as much as making a couple of dates to get laid at the wake. It all felt kind of empty but at least he wasn’t alone at night.

The first time Tommy saw Laurel after news of the yacht was at Sarah’s funeral, a week after Oliver’s. Laurel’s mother didn’t hold up as well as Moira, Tommy didn’t hold it against her. Laurel didn’t cry, and Tommy took her home that night. She reminded him of Oliver in bed.

A couple of years went by and he still wasn’t doing anything with his life. Party, check in on his stocks, and participate in this weird thing he and Laurel had. They didn’t always have sex, hell didn’t have sex very often. But their friendship blossomed and Tommy found himself thinking she was good enough. Not Oliver, she was so different from him but she had a tie to him as well. And that attracted him, kept him going back regardless of the amount of times Laurel brushed him off or friend zoned him

Suddenly Oliver was alive.

He found out through Thea. Moira had never been a fan of him, using him as a convenient excuse for Oliver’s ways, but Thea was like a sister. He’d grown up with her, chasing him and Oliver around, and after Oliver he’d tried to be there for her. Be a brother he could never replace.

She was a lot like Oliver, a little less dickish but Tommy could see Oliver in the way she acted and viewed the world. And she barely even realized it.

He gave it until a respectable time to go and see Oliver, even if it felt like he wanted to jump out of his skin. And Oliver was different, in vital ways. He shouldn’t have been surprised; five years on a deserted island would change anyone. It did though, but Tommy didn’t stumble pretended like it was before even when it was painfully obvious it wasn’t.

The first time Oliver brushed him off it was like a punch in the gut. They hadn’t talked about them, it was like they were your basic run of the mill best friends again, and Tommy couldn’t read Oliver at all anymore. His face was blank almost all of the time, and there was no sign he wanted to do that with Tommy anymore.

Which sucked, because loosing Oliver had made Tommy realized exactly what Oliver meant to him.

Instead Tommy watched Oliver pine over Laurel. Which was just awkward really, considering everything. And Tommy got spiteful in a way. He’d grown to love Laurel as well, had been wanting more out of them for a while. Oliver being back and wanting her just pushed him to actually make his move.

It was a dick move, something the old Oliver would pull without even thinking about it. Even on Tommy.

Tommy didn’t let himself think on it, Oliver had burnt his bridges with Laurel. Napalmed those bitches, there couldn’t be an Oliver and Laurel again.

When Tommy’s dad took his money away, left him with no options well maybe it was the best thing even if it hurt and sucked and made him feel like shit. But they talked that night Tommy asked for a job, actually talked. Oliver was hurting over the Helena chick, in a way Tommy wasn’t used to seeing.

They were half way through their beers, talking and laughing about the old times when Oliver leaned over in a desperate kind of rush and kissed Tommy harder than he used to. Tommy adapted pretty quickly, had his hand gripping Oliver’s hair in no time and just holding on like he hadn’t touched Oliver like this in years.

“I missed this,” Oliver admitted pulling away and not looking at Tommy. It was something Tommy had noticed new Oliver did, avoided actually looking at people.

“Yeah,” Tommy smiled and licked his lips. “Are we allowed to do this now that you’re my boss?”

And Oliver laughed at that, actually laughed and Tommy couldn’t stop the feeling of pride bubbling up. Oliver didn’t laugh enough anymore. He almost hated to interrupt it with a kiss, but Oliver happy was one of the most beautiful things he’d seen. “I missed you man,” he whispered when Oliver pulled away again because he couldn’t stop himself and it needed to be said. “Fuck, I’m glad you’re alive.”

“I missed you too,” Oliver sighed and leaned back, mixing his signals up in all kinds of way. “I… your important.”

“That’s me, Mr. Important.” And he was trying to lighten the mood, give this Oliver a break. But Oliver was actually looking at him, for longer than a couple of seconds and Tommy was pretty sure he saw more than he was meant to, but he didn’t let it faze him.

Instead he grabbed the back of Oliver’s head and pulled him in for a kiss while pushing his hand underneath Oliver’s shirt.

His first thought was holy shit, because Oliver was all muscle, his second thought was what the fuck because Oliver was holding his wrist tightly and not letting him move it. “Um?”

“So, I haven’t been completely honest either.” And Oliver actually sounded hesitant. “The island wasn’t… easy.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that.” He answered sarcastically because he wasn’t an idiot, out of the two of them he’d been the one that had graduated after all.

“No,” and Oliver was looking away. Then he stood up and walked away, keeping his back to Tommy, “just…” and he sighed and Tommy could tell he was about to bite a bullet of some damned kind from the way he was holding himself. That hadn’t changed, even if there hadn’t been many bullets for either of them to bite in their life.

Tommy just leaned back on the couch and watched Oliver’s back as he unbuttoned his shirt. Forced himself not to react when he saw Oliver’s back, and forced himself to relax when Oliver turned around.

Oliver looked at him like he expected something, anything, and Tommy was fazed, couldn’t figure out what to say or do. “So yeah, not easy is an understatement isn’t it?”

Oliver just nodded, didn’t move or say anything.

“Well the good news is, the scars really bring out your muscles. Man your buff!” It was probably nowhere near the thing to say, but it was all he could manage.

And later that night Tommy could tell when Oliver finally fell asleep, draped over him the way he was. Some of the tension left Oliver’s body; he wasn’t so hard and closed off. It was nice to see Oliver like this.

And when Oliver awoke with a jerk and a hiss, his hand clamping back down on Tommy’s wrist, like he thought Tommy was a threat. Well obviously Tommy was still there, he hadn’t had the heart to push Oliver away and was pretty sure Oliver still practiced playing at an octopus in bed.

Tommy just yawned like he’d been asleep and turned over so he was on his stomach, “how can you still be the worst person to sleep next to?” He asked making sure there was enough slur in his voice that it sounded like sleep.

“Some things don’t change,” it was quiet and sad and Tommy forced himself not to make a face at the way it pulled in his chest. Something told him Oliver would be able to see it.

“Sleeping,” he mumbled and felt Oliver huff on the back of his neck before leaving the bed. He couldn’t stop the frown, but didn’t say anything as he watched Oliver walk over to his computer. Decided to leave it be and closed his eyes, figuring he’d been half asleep anyways.

Things weren’t so much back to normal after that, as a kind of new ground they were almost familiar with. There was Laurel and Tommy, and Laurel and Oliver, then just Oliver and Tommy. It was messed up and Tommy didn’t have the first idea of what to do with all of it, just that he loved both of them.

Eventually they’d all figure it out, or they wouldn’t. For now Tommy could only be thankful.


End file.
